Just One Miracle
by TheConsultingSH
Summary: JohnLock fanfiction, yaoi. Contineous story. Uploads will be slow at times.
1. Where is he?

Sherlock pushed his hand through his pocket, his breath fogging the cold air as snow fell down from the sky. His head tucked into the scarf and jacket trying to keep his cheeks and lips warm from the cold. The snow crunching beneath his shoes. It was dark outside; he just finished his coffee at a nearby starbuck place.

He has kept himself disguised and unnoticed for many months, wearing a hoody over his head or wearing a wig and fake scar he created on his lip, nose and eye. He lets out another shaky breath, should've gotten himself warmer clothes on. He exhales through his nose, seeing the fine fog mist escaping into the air before it fades.

John glances through the window, pressing his hand against the cold glass wondering. He still grieved over Sherlock's 'death' and still visits his grave every week, still having faith that Sherlock still alive. He believes in Sherlock. Despite the grave that sat there in the cemetery, he always doubts and not believing it's true. It was a cold winter day, wonder how Sherlock was handling the cold, if he was out there, somewhere.

Sherlock trembled, wearing a grey hat similar to Sherlock that he was given for a gift. His feet crunched against the snow that was slowly piling the floor from the snow fall. He held his gloved hands out, some snowflakes landing on his hand though melts immediately. He stuck his hand back into his pocket, shivering slightly.

Days passes by, he just went to the cafe, and then returned home. John didn't much, went out and dated a few girls but never kept a single relationship in for long. Neither Sherlock nor John enjoying anything neither smiled or showed much emotion. Expressing only fake emotion to hopefully people do not ask questions.

It was another snow falling day, it's been going on and off last few days. Today Sherlock was visiting his own grave, his 'fake' grave. He exhaled, shiver tingling down his spine and grunts slightly in response of the chill. He found his grave easily, moving around the back of the gravestone and sat down against it, his knees pulled up near to his chest, his face half buried in it trying to keep himself warm. He pulled up his scarf, trying to keep himself from shivering. He ignored everything around him, shivering a little bit remained unmoving, being in his mind palace.

John walking through the cemetery, clueless of Sherlock was here also. He wears a winter jacket with a hat with ear warmers to keep his ears from having frostbites. The snow crunched beneath his boots, exhaling out through his lips, fogging the air.


	2. Came back from the grave

Sherlock duck his head down, cold, rubbing his hands near his chest, breathing on his own hands trying to keep them warm. The snow didn't stop falling, it was like a forever cold sorrow that fell down from the dark black sky. He was unaware of John approaching the grave he was sitting at, he was sitting behind the grave.

John stops in front of the grave, lifting his head up, his cheeks red from the cold and tips of his nose red. He looks at the name on the gravestone before noticing dark figure behind it. He frowns and steps forward. "Hello? Who're you?" He asked with his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Sherlock eyes widen, oh crap. He was surprised, he rubs his gloved hands together and not look at him. He pitched his voice a little. "Sitting sir, visiting sir." He said, trying to get his voice pitched enough to sound like a teenager.

"Don't give me that, who you are and what do you know of Sherlock?" He asked almost frustratedly.

"I am someone you do not want to meet and I know him since date of birth." He said, obviously since he was the one that was born. He rolled his eyes, keeping his head down against his knees a little.

John was frustrated, not wanting plays the boy's games. He spoke sternly. "Stand up, now." He said, his soldier self-kicking in.

Sherlock stayed there for a long moment. "Why sir? Cannot we chat like this?" He asked with a hint of concern.

"Up now, or else." He said orderly. Sherlock obeyed and stood to his feet though he didn't turn around, having his hoody up so he was good for now. The only light force was the lamp that was 3 yards away. "Turn around." He gave the order sternly wanting to know who it is. Sherlock shook his head a little. "No, I cannot sir. Please this could be risky." He said, feeling he will know what John would do.

John grew frustrated, he stepped forward, grabbing him by the shoulder and arm, forcing him to turn around though Sherlock pulled against him and grunts. Sherlock fails to protest, being turned around, his scarf falling from his face. His hood falling back a little, snow still falling.

John stood there in shock, staring at him like he is seeing a ghost. He rubs his eyes, blinking a few times. Was he seeing things? No, he must not but how? He was dead. He saw him fall off the building. "Sherlock…? Is that…?" He said with his eyes wide.

Sherlock stood there and looks at him in the eyes. "Yes John." He says. "It's me." He sighed to himself, angry to himself to come here in the first place. He saw John shaken, though looks shocked and anger. He raised his hand up in protection; to late he felt a punch right into his face knocking him off of his feet and into the ground, the snow crunching beneath him. He yelps softly in surprise, blood trinkling from his nose, dripping onto the white snow. He wipes the blood away and pinched his nose.

He pushed himself to his feet, his nosebleed eventually stopping. "Ow..Damn you punched hard." He said rubbing his nose. John glares at him. "Yea, that was my intention. You were supposed to be dead, I saw you fall. I saw you hit the ground." He said. "No, John. You saw someone fall. I am still here and breathing. The one from the roof was a fake." He said to him.

"What…? A fake? You…weren't on the roof the entire time…? But I saw you on the phone on the roof…" He said completely confused and puzzled by all this.

"I was in the alley way watching you John; it was me talking to you. The fake only lip sync my words I have spoken. John, I had to lie to you to protect you. You'd be dead, and so would others." He said carefully.

"How can I just forgive you like this? It's not going to work that easy…" He said. "You do not know that, you grieved for me, and so did I. I wouldn't lie to you if it's not necessary but it was. I am deeply sorry." He said carefully, pressing his lips to a thin line looking at him almost pleadingly.

John stood there, shaken a little though was taking in deep breathes. "Just give me one more chance, John. I am sorry but Moriaty is gone, I am permantly here for you." He says with a frown.

John took a few more breathes, looking at Sherlock with tears threatening to fall. "Fine…But I will not forgive you so easily. You'll prove it over time." He said.


	3. You Bloody Bastard

Sherlock finally allowed himself to return to his own flat with his flatmate and friend, John Watson. He sat in the chair reading through John's blogs, there was some period that John didn't blog for some length of time. Usually they were unhappy, stressed, depressed, uneased, and felt hopeless. He also noted that John wasn't interest in keeping a single relationship for very long and tends to be all over the place. The last blog, which he somewhat upset about, stopped dating all together. This wasn't like John.

He closes the laptop and place it on the table top close by, John went out to get grocery and milk of course. He took his phone and reads 3 text messages, all from John.

'Do you want anything in particular from the store?-JW' 15 minutes ago.

'Sherlock? –JW' 5 minutes ago.

'Sherlock please answer me –JW' 2 minutes ago.

Sherlock blinks a few times and writes. 'No I do not need anything. –SH' He sent the text and rest the phone on the arm rest. He pinched his finger over the bridge of his nose between his eyes. He sighs calmly; at least it was warmer inside instead of being outside in the cold weather with the snow still falling. Some days it'll be warmer and snow would melt but that would change overnight.

He closed his hands, pressing his hands together, aligning his fingers and palm exactly to his other hand, holding in front of his nose, inhaling and exhaling. His thoughts were interrupted by the door opening and slammed shut, before hearing heavy steps with sound of bag crumbling in the air. He opened his eyes; spotting John went into the kitchen to put the groceries away.

Sherlock remained silent on the chair, simply watching John for a few long seconds; he looked away staring at the floor. He heard John throw the bags away and went into the living room. "I texted you three times, why didn't you answer me the first time?" He asked. Sherlock can tell he was frowning. "Because I was reading and didn't notice I have messages on my phone." He says. John looked confused and spoke. "Where's the book then?" He asked. Sherlock gestured the laptop.

"I put a brand new password on that, how..?" He said with surprise. "It's rather easy John. Even if you make the stupid big password, it was easy to know what it was." He said carefully with a half-smile. John frowns, grabbing his laptop and opening it. "Sherlock! You read through my PRIVATE Blogs?" He said with a frustrated look.

"I feel no regret, John. I was just checking how you were while I was gone; have to say they are not good at all. You can look through my blogs if you wish but I have not been blogging once." He said, being on his feet and went to the kitchen to make himself some tea.

"How I am? You probably knew that by just looking at me and how much a mess I was." He commented dryly. He rolled his eyes. "Yes I could but you stopped dating completely, you can't keep a single date, which surprising remained the same even if I was gone. You feeling hopeless, depressed, and to the brink of giving up." He said. "The John I knew would never give up, you always believed in me. You asked for one miracle, not to be dead and here I am, breathing." He said his deduction.

John sighed frustratedly and grabs Sherlock by the shoulder and turning him around. "I was losing hope for myself, I just couldn't keep a single date when I feel a part of me just missing, gone, feeling hollowed inside." He said with a frown. He stares into John's eyes, trying to figure him out. This was not good; they were on the same page. He also felt he lost a part of himself, like something was missing.

They both stood there in complete silence before Sherlock grabbed by the chin and pressed his lips against John's lips forcefully at first, trying to make it last before pulling away letting John recover. John eyes widen, standing there was complete surprise. He stares at Sherlock like he was seeking some kind of fortune. "You bloody bastard, shouldn't have stopped." He said before leaning up and kissing him on the lips.

Sherlock was very surprised, kissing him back passionately and forceful. He groans lightly before pulling away for a breather. "I think the friendship gone beyond." Sherlock noted.


	4. Going out

Sherlock sat on the chair staring at the wall quietly, he was bored, he has done no cases for a couple of months and John around, he really wants to do a case but the entire one in the pile on the desk are incredibly boring. He could hear John typing on the keyboard of his laptop. He inhales the warm air and then exhaling out softly. He needed a smoke or those nicotine batches but John refuse to give him any.

"John I need them." He said holding his hand out in the air in gesture to give to them. "No, Sherlock." He responded. "I need it." He said keeping his hand held out forward. He was ignored and grunts in response. He got up and walked around the room, ravaging through some of the stuff. "Sherlock, it's no use." John spoke out calmly. Sherlock formed a scowl following a small pout before he collapsed down onto the couch, curling up and sulking.

John glances towards Sherlock who's sulking on the couch like a child. He smiles lightly, finding it a bit adorable. He felt his phone buzz and looks at his text.

'Sherlock not answering his text messages. It he alright? –MH' 1 minute ago.

John raised a brow and spoke. "Sherlock, your brother trying to contact you." He said hearing a grunt from the sulking body on the couch. "I am aware." He replied back, not moving from the couch. "Why are you not answering him?" He asked him confusedly. "Because he worried about me too much and I don't want to talk to my brother. He should be in America discussing in a meeting guess he had other plans." He said with a simple hand gesture in the air.

John text Mycroft back.

'Sherlock's fine, just sulking on the couch because he's bored. It's the usual. –JW' He sent the text and puts his phone back into his pocket.

"Sherlock how about we go out? Don't think sitting around going to do any good." He suggested. Sherlock rose up to his feet immediately. "Yes let's go out somewhere, It's boring in here." He said before turning and disappearing down the stairs. "Sherlock!" He called up to him, putting his laptop on to the chair and follows after him. "You wanted to go out the entire time?" "Yes, you just noticed?" He raised a brow. "Why?" He asked confusedly. "Because you clearly kept staring at me every 2 minutes if I was going to disappear at any moment. I am trying to prove I am not going to go anywhere or disappear or worse." He replied to him. John pressed his lips to a thin line and looks away. "I know, but don't hurt to be concerned." He said. Sherlock frowns in disagreement and.

John and Sherlock went into the café, Sherlock finding a spot which a waitress handed them both a menu. He didn't thank the waitress though John thanked the waitress. Sherlock still not understand why it's needed to say thank you when it's the waitress job, no matter what, to help the customers.

He ordered himself a steak, with mash potato and gravy. John ordered himself a chicken with some fries on the side. They barely talked, though they stared at each other multiple times if communicating through body gestures and eyes. Few minutes their food got to their table and Sherlock didn't hesitate to start eating his food.

Sherlock was first to finish his plate, wiping around his mouth and lips of any food and crumbs. He pushed the plate to the edge of the table for it to be picked up. He watches John eat, watching his movement and expression. John finally looked up to see Sherlock staring at him as if he was some kind of interesting prey. "What?" He responded. Sherlock simply gave him a smile. "Nothing." He said, looking out the window intently.


End file.
